


A Most Reverent Fantasy

by Belmount



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types
Genre: Dom/sub, Hero Worship, M/M, Sexual Fantasy, Worship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:21:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23989561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Belmount/pseuds/Belmount
Summary: Caspian was raised with the tales of the Kings and Queens of Old.And as he matures the very same stories that he once cherished as a mere child become tinted by his newfound bottomless lust; lending themselves to fantasies of a very different kind.
Relationships: Caspian/Edmund Pevensie
Comments: 1
Kudos: 55





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based prior to the events of the Prince Caspian book or film.

Caspian was raised with the tales of the Kings and Queens of Old. 

But then again, they had become so much more than humble stories to him. Yes, they were of course, despite his fore founders’ vast efforts to pretend otherwise, a fundamental part of Narnia’s long and winding history. Yet, that wasn’t quite it either.

He couldn’t recall a time when they hadn’t tirelessly haunted his thoughts, day and night. 

At dawn, with only the gentle dancing of the candlelight to attend him he would quietly recite epic poetry and ballades about the Golden Age, basking in the rich and colourful imagery. At noon, sheltered from his uncle’s gaze he would recreate grand crusades in the shadows of the Telmarine stronghold, excitedly shuffling his figurines around his make-believe frontline. And at dusk, he would endlessly beg his tutor to divulge more myths to him; pleading him to recount fable after fable, impatient to learn more about these ancient monarchs, who he almost likened to friends in their familiarity.

At what time his tutor eventually ran out of new chronicles to instil upon his lone student, Caspian instead assumed waiting until nightfall before embarking on his quest to satisfy his budding thirst for knowledge; eagerly stalking down to the long forgotten ancient vaults that he knew to have been buried below the towering fortress. Upon daybreak, he would smuggle the pages he had torn from various accounts back to his quarters, adding them to his mounting collection, unwilling to be parted with even a petty scrap. Rather irrationally he figured that the value of even the smallest fragment of new knowledge was worth the risk of being caught with unquestionably prohibited material.

After years of this routine enduring, his body eventually starts to mature; stubble materialising where smooth skin had once resided and what had previously been soft flesh becomes hardened muscle. Thus, the court impatiently waited for his mind to follow, to stray to other more refined and flavourful things. And if truth be told it does, the day where he put aside his toys and other childish things without resistance long passed; but he never stops thinking about the Golden Age Kings and Queens. On the contrary, his appreciation intensifies with puberty; tinted with newfound bottomless lust. 

When once his daydreams had been filled with the childish notions of quests and epic battles, they now adopted a very distinctively different tone. Hence, it comes of little surprise to Caspian when his earliest carnal fantasies prominently feature King Edmund the Just. The distinguished monarch seemingly captivating his imagination, and although he blushes to merely think of it, his affections.


	2. Chapter 2

In the privacy of the night, he closes his eyes and discovers himself in a haze of a grand hall; before him, a young man draped in wealth and a crown reclines upon an imposing throne; leaving Caspian feeling rather inadequate and gravely underdressed. 

Indifferent, the king reaches out with a casual elegance to pluck a single blackberry, suckling on it in the most suggestive fashion, allowing the fruits red juices to stain his plump lips a fetching rouge, before sinfully licking the remaining spoils off his graceful fingers.

His dark penetrating eyes never seem to leave Caspian’s, almost appearing to say, “this could be yours, child of a barbarian, if only you would yield to your, and Narnia's, rightful ruler”. The unspoken declaration compels Caspian into a deep, profound bow before dropping into a humble kneel, his ass in raised undignifiedly the air, as his face hovered only mere inches from the cold marble floor, to bestow a single kiss to the great monarchs’ bare feet in an expression of willing submission. As Caspian dares gazes up from his subservient stance, he is greeted by what he presumes to be a rare smirk from the usually composed Edmund, prompting the Telmarine’s heart to impatiently tremble. The sovereign responds by first lightly stroking the boys flushed rosy cheeks, then his parted lips and finally his thick wild locks; dragging him out of his prone position and leading him into a deep, bruising kiss; all teeth and tongue intended without doubt as a mark of ownership.

After a pregnant pause for the two men to recover their breath, Edmund swiftly casts Caspian back down onto the unforgiving floor; rising imposingly above the panting boy, briefly appraising him like a fine horse that he wasn’t yet sure was worth the effort of haggling for. Seeming to find something of merit upon his examination, the King proceeded to crawl predatorily up Caspian so that the youth couldn’t help but feel that the Sovereign’s body enveloped his everything. 

In the dream, the King ensues to unceremoniously shred every garment of cloth from the prince’s virgin body, only hesitating when the boy is left wearing only a deep blush and a pretty smile. The last time Caspian had been this exposed he was only an infant, still young enough that he didn’t understand the connotations of such an act or that he should feel vulnerability upon being resigned to such a state. Even as a babe in arms, he was certain that he would have only been beheld that way by a handful of governesses and wet nurses, assuredly never a man.

Yet, Edmund shamelessly feasts upon the boy’s stripped form, his eyes noticeably dilatating. The older royal began to slowly slither down his body, his ravenous eyes never leaving Caspian’s face as he hungrily kisses his way from the youth’s long neck to his groin. Finally, he engulfs the gasping prince in the warmth of his mouth, ignoring how the boy’s groans and cries echoed throughout the generous hall. Somehow, the young King manages to reserve a stately air about him, that seemed to suggest that he continued to command complete authority; regardless that he was currently caged between Caspian’s tanned legs, steadily bobbing up and down, as his lush lips stretched around the boy’s feverish cock. Consequently, designating Caspian as the strange and whorish of the two; his body taut and his back arched in throes of urgent need, his half-clawed hands bracing Edmunds unruly curls speaking of a primal instinct he could not articulate.

In Edmunds presence he relinquishes his dignity and submits to his feral self.


End file.
